


There Can Still Be Magic

by Atomics



Series: The Oscars [4]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Jealousy, M/M, bc its basically the main one tbh, bc pining, but its an underlining theme and worth the tag, did i say its an underlining theme?, neither of them seem to want to share each other much, okay they're not actually together in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-15 01:38:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8037181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atomics/pseuds/Atomics
Summary: Things change as you get older, but that doesn't mean you can abandon a good thing.





	There Can Still Be Magic

**Author's Note:**

> Because if you've read anything else of mine, you had to see the brudick coming..

Tradition was tradition. And going to the Oscars was tradition. Bruce had almost felt silly securing the invites this year. Dick was 17 now, too old to be a bubbling enamored kid, but this was something they had always done together. 

Even if things had begun to shift… _differently_ between them lately. Maybe this was exactly what they needed to get back on track. To get back to normal. For Bruce to remember that Dick Grayson was his _ward._

Dick had smiled brilliantly when he spotted the strategically placed invites. Picking up the gold coated paper and shimmying over to where Bruce was going over company files. He leaned against the desk next to him, fingers tracing over the raised lettering.

“I almost forgot the Awards were coming up.” The man tried to make the way he was watching him and not focusing on files at all discreet, but this close it was hard to hide. Bruce just hummed. “You’re gonna be my date again this year, right?”

He tried not to choke on air at those words, said like that and the way Dick casually leaned into him with a smile. Finally managing a “We go every year together. Why would now be different?”

The near adult _but not near enough for this to be okay_ , just shrugged, setting the invites down before sliding off Bruce’s desk. Giving Bruce what he wanted to consider a borderline-appropriate kiss on the cheek. Speaking against the stubbly skin there, Bruce closing his eyes, savoring the way he felt the smile pressed against him. “Just checking.”

\---

They didn’t match exactly this year, but their colors still balanced and looked beautifully against each other. Of course they did. Dick knew he and Bruce always looked great together, that they’d _be_ great together. They were always meant for it and Bruce was a stubborn ass for resisting.

But tonight was about fun, not any of that. Dick reminding himself as paparazzi swarmed at their arrival, the two well-dressed Gothamite regulars stepping out and onto the red carpet together. It was supposed to be magic. As they waved and smiled and put on a show to make it seem just so. The aura of the evening settling around and Dick breathed it all in. Shaking hands with actors, producers, directors, _everyone._ Smiling at people he’d seen here a few times before and Bruce a tall grounding presence besides him.

And when Bruce wrapped a hand around his waist as they posed for a few more photos with a group, the butterflies only added more realism to his grin. The way he shifted closer and hummed. Sol Michelle smiling and holding up one of her own awards from a previous year beside them.

Finally making it in to a plaza for mingling beforehand. Sol turned to him with a wide and kind smile. “You’ve grown so much, Dick. I can’t believe I’m still seeing you here.”

Dick smiled back “You can’t keep your biggest fan away. Besides, I know you’re a shoe-in for a few awards this year. We couldn’t miss that for anything.” He looked towards his partner and ignored the way his hand itched to grab hold of Bruce’s. The man’s voice echoing in his head and holding him back _It’s not appropriate for us to still walk around like that, Dick. It was fine when you were younger but you’re not anymore._ Hiding the way that reminder hurt by throwing himself more into conversations as they continued to mingled about.

The Awards were about them having _fun_. Relaxing and enjoying themselves. Before, he had never minded the way actresses had flocked to Bruce Wayne, it was normal, _expected_. But when a woman whose name escaped him, practically shoved between them, draping herself over the billionaire, Dick had to bite the insides of his cheeks to keep from intervening. Looking for Bruce’s signal to interrupt, but it never came.

Instead he excused himself curtly, Bruce seeming to stumble over words that never actually came out as he broke away. He spotted a few more people he knew, but none were anyone he _really_ knew. That knew him beyond faux conversations and paper headlines. Found himself wishing Clark had come this year. _Maybe if I click my heels and say his name three times, he’ll appear._ With super-hearing, it wasn't completely out of the question. 

But Dick settled for being happy for the reporter instead. Superman was a busy man after all. Glaring over at the woman giggling and tracing a finger along his mentor's jaw. _Apparently it was going around._

In the end he settled against a table, spotting a tray full of champagne glasses and swooping one up. Bruce drank at these things all the time, so it’s not like it really mattered. And it wasn’t like anyone was about to stop the ward of Bruce Wayne from doing whatever he damn well pleased. That much was made apparent years ago at these things. Though he did feel a flash of guilt as he brought it to his lips. A flash that was easily drowned out with the sweet and light taste. The satisfaction of knowing Bruce wouldn’t exactly approve.

The teen had only had a few sips before a man with a head of thick dirty blonde hair leaned against the table next to him. It only took half a moment to recognize the up and coming action director, Bradly Keeper.

“And just what is a lovely face like yours own doing over here all by their lonesome.” Dick turned to him more fully, taking the newcomer in. He wasn’t _bad_ looking. Nobody in Hollywood was. _Still he was no Bruce Wayne._

And yet, Dick didn’t actually want to be alone over here so he shrugged. Swirling the flute as he spoke. “My date ditched me and now I’m pretending not to sulk. What’s your excuse?”

A mix of emotions almost played across features, but stuck to the bleached white grin. “I can’t tell whether to say your date has excellent taste.. or horrible judgement, leaving you like this. Me? I’m flying solo, my first time being invited so I brought my sister with.”

Dick finally smiled at him and it wasn’t all fake, good to be reminded of people doing good things. That he loved going to this event. He took another, larger sip of the champagne. “That’s sweet of you, to bring your sister.”

A hum. “It is. And just who was your date? I just may need to give them a piece of my mind.” A part of Dick wanted to groan and roll his eyes at the blatant and bad attempts at flirting. Another part of him craved the attention, that sort of attention that was hard pressed to get out of who he really wanted it from.

Grinning as he scanned the crowd. Spotting Bruce chatting along with a larger group now, not paying his ward any mind. Dick’s eyes were still on his partner as he spoke. “Why, Bruce Wayne of course.” Turning back just in time to see the surprise on Bradly’s face, gears working as he realized just what that meant.

“ _You’re Dick Grayson,_ aren’t you.” Wasn’t really a question, it was obvious. They always made headlines together at this thing. Now it was Dick’s turn to smirk.

“Guilty as charged Mr. Keeper. Still want to chat?” Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to purr that out like a challenge. But it felt good the way Bradly rose to it, leaning in closer.

“I’m not a man so easily intimated.”

“Is that so?” Only it wasn’t Dick speaking, playful and light. Instead Bruce Wayne’s voice was cantering dangerously close to the Bat as he appeared out of seemingly nowhere before them. Both their eyes widening like a pair of caught school children. Only Dick’s came with a relieved sort of grin, the kind he couldn’t very well fight whenever Bruce was around. A sense he was a bit more pleased with this than the fumbling man next to him.

But Bradly recovered quick enough. “You shouldn’t leave such a _charming_ young ward unattended Mr. Wayne. There’s no law against friendly conversation.” Cameras continued to flash and music play around them. Dick taking a moment to wonder if anyone else had noticed what was happening. Heart rate increasing and fighting to keep a stoic expression as Bruce bristled and near seethed.

But as calm and collected as ever, his towering guardian’s hand slipped over. Taking the champagne flute from Dick in just the right time to fluidly place on a passing waiter’s tray. The teen not even having time to pout before Bruce Wayne was speaking.

“True as that may be, things are done a bit _differently_ in Gotham.” the first bit almost as if to Dick. Hand coming back to sweep a stray hair out of his ward’s face before he turned back to Keeper. Now it was definitely the Bat that growled out. “The next time you speak to me or my ward with that tone, I’ll be certain to show you _just_ how differently we handle our problems there.”

To Bradly’s credit, he only gulped once before nodding and excusing himself. It was a smart mood, when the Bat bleeded into the man like that. Bruce waiting until the intruder was out of view before turning back to Dick. Dick who cocked a brow.

“Well that was awfully rude.”

“And just _what_ did you think you were doing? I don’t need to remind you that you’re not old enough to drink yet, Dick. Nor are you old enough to willfully be hanging out with sleezebags like that.”

The teen rolled his eyes and scoffed. “ _Sleezebag?_ Guy was just being nice.” Crossing his arms to make a point. Bruce wasn’t the only one capable of being stubborn. “And I’ll drink if I want to. Not like you were paying me any attention anyway. We’re _supposed_ to go to these _together_.”

He expected Bruce to rile up further. All the warning flares of another fight going off.

“Is that what this is about?” But those words didn’t come off antagonizing and something in the man seemed to melt away. Leaving a more raw emotion that Dick couldn’t help but respond to with dropping his arms and moving closer. “Dick I…this is supposed to be a day for good things. We shouldn’t lose sight of that.”

A warm hand on his shoulder that felt too tempting. Too needed even as Dick covered it with his own. The moment Bruce laced their fingers together was the moment Dick’s resolve broke. “Agreed, B.”

And Bruce wasn’t getting away from the hug this time, nor did he try. Maybe it was a smidge longer than appropriate, but it was worth it for the feel and security of Bruce pressed against and wrapped around him. For the way the scent of him filled Dick’s senses and soothed the last of his building tension.

They pulled apart with a shared smile. Bruce motioning towards the building with his head and a dopey grin. “Let’s go find our seats. Ride out tonight’s monologues together, just like always.”

Dick nodded. "Sounds like a plan to me."

He wanted to walk over hand in hand, but he knew better. And he knew it wasn’t Bruce’s fault, even if it was easy to blame him. But as they sat and listened to the opening speeches, one of Bruce’s hands did find his own. They could pretend that was just so they could communicate in pressure based code. And resting his head along the man’s shoulder? Well that was only because David Spade rambled long enough to put everyone to sleep. Even if they both knew better.

It was after all, a night for magic.

\----

Bruce let himself lean back, enjoying the way his mind could be free to wander and sort through other things while the Awards droned on. Dick paying near rapt attention as usual, occasionally glancing up at the painted ceilings and glimmering statues with awe. It was a good look on Dick, had always been. Bruce squeezing his ward’s hand, heart fluttering when that smile was thrown his way instead.

His growing partner leaned closer with a bit of smirk. “We’ve got better seats than Bradly Keeper, B.” Bruce felt his own self-satisfied smile at that bit of information.

“You don’t say? I mean, you _could_ always go back and sit with him instead.” That earned him a pinch and a giggle. Dick snuggling closer than they maybe should but it didn’t have to matter. Everyone was sitting close. Bruce was just glad to have him close, secure and _here._ That they had gotten back on track to having a good night.

When the Awards finally came to an end, everyone was shuffling out, mingling on their way again. Bruce swore a bit too loud when he let Dick out of his sight for not even a moment and the kid was gone. Cursing the day when his ward got too big to just hoist on his back and call it good.

Respotting Dick wasn’t too difficult though. There was an aura with him that drew attention, that only seemed to grow stronger as the boy grew older. Dick was there off to the side, laughing at something that _fucking_ Bradly Keeper and a few others were saying.

He tried not to growl at the way the dark blonde’s hand rested at his ward’s elbow. Weaving his way through the crowd, dodging some press in the process until he was able to join the little group. Glad when he noticed that Dick had shifted away from Bradly, even if he was still smiling too nicely at the man and his friends.

Dick’s eyes light up when he spotted Bruce there. “Bruce! There you are. You’ll never guess what these guys invited me to.” He knew _exactly_ what they had invited him to.

“Well, I hope I don’t need to remind anyone that you’re still not of drinking age. I’m afraid after-parties will have to wait a few more years.” That earned a few _‘awwws’_ but no one down right argued. Not with Bruce Wayne standing there himself.

But that didn’t mean Bradly completely dropped it either. “Well you’re more than welcome to join too, Bruce. What's a better way to keep an eye on your ward than joining in on the fun?”

Dick’s features lit with an amused pout but at Bruce’s frown, the teen shrugged and sighed. “Sorry, boys. Maybe next year. Bruce and I got some wild plans of our own anyways.”

“Aint no party like a Bruce Wayne Party.”

Bradly nudged into Dick with the words before a woman in red finished the rhythm. “Because a Bruce Wayne party don’t stop!” The group laughing, even Brucie as he extended a hand. Dick grabbing hold dramatically and twirling out of the circle.

Bruce tossed a “Maybe one year you’ll get invited” over his shoulder as Dick laughed again, linking their arms together. The man holding tight to the contact to keep anyone else from pulling Dick out and inviting him away before they got out.

 

By the time they made it to the pent-house suite Bruce had booked for the trip, some of the excitement of the evening was beginning to wear off. The man’s buzz definitely was. But Dick still seemed too wound up for anything resembling sleep anytime soon.

Bruce shaking his head as the teen plopped heavily down on the couch with a flourish. “The day you’re invited to more after-parties than Bruce Wayne is a day I fear to see.” Dick just giggled, kicking off his shoes.

“Seems to be a day fast approaching. You’re gonna have to work to keep hip, old man.”

He cocked a brow and rounded the couch, “Oh yea?” snatching up one of Dick’s feet and brushing his fingers along the underside until the teen was giggling and kicking. Eventually twisting and falling off the couch with a less than graceful thump.

Bruce laughing at the messy mop of dark hair the peeked back up. “Jerk.”

“Come say that to my face.” Maybe his buzz wasn’t completely gone. Dick pulled himself back up on the couch, kneeling just before the arm rest and puffing his chest out.

Like this, he was still a good head or so shorter than Bruce though. Making a sight more sweet than intimidating. Rolling the word with a cheeky grin. _“Jerk.”_

Bruce shook his head. “That’s it.” Didn’t waste time in wrapping an arm around the kid and hoisting him up on his shoulder. Dick yelping out and laughing as he was spun around. Fingers pressing into places Bruce knew were ticklish.

Laughter that was music to his ears before they both fell back on the couch. The teen twisting and turning until he was snuggled against Bruce’s chest. Head sliding in the crook of the man's neck, breathing deep and holding tight. 

There was no universe in which Bruce could find the will to push him away instead of wrapping him closer. Face burying itself in the sweet scented and messy hair of his ward as both their laughter trickled out.

“Thanks, B.” Dick sighed, almost sounding tired.

“Thanks?”

“Yea, ya know. For taking me all these years. For being my best friend, my _home_.”

A light chuckled rumbled through his chest as the man’s fingers weaved in the ends of Dick’s hair. “You must have snuck more champagne than I thought, huh.”

Dick shook his head and Bruce did his best not to stiffen at the way the kid kissed lightly at his neck. It wasn’t as difficult as it should’ve been. “How much did _you_ drink?”

“Not enough to deal with that Keeper creep.” he sighed “Yet still too little to justify giving him a good black eye for his efforts.”

It was Dick’s turn to laugh. Neither of them making much more effort in conversation after that. Listening instead to the steady rise and fall of breathing. Distant city noises bleeding through as they both lulled off into a peaceful sleep.


End file.
